“Right? I feel like I’m playing a lawyer on TV!”

“We’re all going to the bar across the street to celebrate our first day. Come!”

“I promised my boyfriend I’d be home for dinner tonight.”

“Don’t be absurd,” she scoffed. I glanced at my watch. Orientation had finished ahead of schedule, and Sam wasn’t expecting me home for at least another hour. I thought for a moment about all the postwork happy hours I’d seen on television and in movies. I had never before had colleagues willing to spend money on overpriced midtown drinks.

“Fine. I’m in.” It felt good to yield so easily, allowing me to feel like a professional for the first time in my life.

“First round is on me!” Derrick insisted as he handed the bartender his credit card, our crowd of five circling up behind him at the bar.

“No!” we protested in unison.

“It’s my treat. I’ll take it out of my moving stipend,” he said with a smile. “What’s everybody drinking?”

After we shouted our orders at the bartender in turn, I scanned the sparsely populated bar.

Kevin leaned in to me. “Just us and the trading and advertising crowds now. The lawyers and investment bankers won’t get here until six thirty at the earliest.”

Derrick passed me my vodka soda over Roxanne’s head, and I mouthed a thank-you. “How do you know they’re in advertising?” I asked Kevin.

“Their clothes. Could be just bad taste, but lack of funds is more likely,” he answered before heading off to commandeer a high-top whose occupants were paying their bill. I noticed the preponderance of khakis and ill-fitting dresses around the room, then looked back at our small clan’s well-tailored suits, smart skirts, and flowing tops. And we haven’t even gotten our first paychecks yet.

Kevin waved us over to the table as the waitress was finishing clearing the glasses and wiping up whatever gummy residue of dark liquor was left on the heavily varnished wood.

“Derrick, how do you have anything left in your stipend, by the way?” Carmen asked. “My stipend barely covered my move, and I only came from Boston. Didn’t you move across the country?”

Derrick shrugged. “My parents have a furnished place in the city where I’m living now, so I didn’t really have anything to move. But Klasko asked if I was moving from outside New York City to inside New York City. I said yes. Because I was. And now I have ten grand to spend on you lovely folks.”

We met his glass in a cheers.

“They give you ten grand to move?” Roxanne asked. “Columbia kids weren’t offered anything.” She looked at Jennifer, who nodded in agreement.

“Thank god they did,” I said. “It was the only way my boyfriend and I could have afforded our security deposit. We only had money left for a couch after we signed a lease.”

Carmen looked at me. “You moved in with your boyfriend!? Sam, right?” I nodded, impressed she remembered his name, as they’d only met in passing in Cambridge.

“How long have you been with him?” Jennifer asked.

“Almost four years.”

“What’s his deal?” Roxanne asked.

I shrugged. “We met in college—I was at Harvard, and he was at MIT—and then he started his company in Boston. It’s part of the reason I stayed at Harvard for law school.” The group around my table nodded, and I felt a sense of comfort in knowing that they didn’t think I was bragging.

“I give you six months at Klasko until you find yourself single!” Derrick teased. Everybody laughed, and so I forced one from my mouth as well, but my stomach twisted up.

“Derrick, don’t be an idiot,” Carmen said, giving me a reassuring nod.

“I was just messing with you,” Derrick said, checking me lightly with his shoulder as I bit my lower lip.

The door to the bar was flung open, and we all turned to look as three men in suits entered purposefully, seemingly unfamiliar with both the feeling of rejection and the force of gravity. I recognized one as the young, attractive attorney I had spotted earlier in the conference room. The waiter was readying their drinks before they even reached the bar.

“Those are some of the M&A associates,” Carmen said in a low voice.

“They’re probably going back to work after this,” Kevin said, looking at his watch. They leaned against the bar and threw back three shots in tandem, chasing them with only slight grimaces before turning to sip the amber liquid in their short, stout glasses. How could anybody do any work after a shot and a drink? I watched the handsome dark-haired associate peel a bill from his money clip and slide it across the bar toward the bartender.

“That makes me think—we need some shots!” Derrick said, commandeering our attention again.

“I should get home, actually,” I said apologetically.

Carmen opened her mouth to object but then nodded. “I’ll walk you out.”

As we left the bar, two dapper men in suits on their way in held the door for us. Well groomed. Well mannered. Well dressed. I supposed the bankers and lawyers were now trickling in. I stepped to the curb and peered east on Fifty-First Street, scanning the street for a taxi. I could feel Carmen watching me.

“I think we can call this a successful first day!” she said cheerily. “I’m sorry that Derrick was being kind of a dick. It’s only because he thinks you’re cute.”

“Really?” I looked back at her, and she nodded. I hadn’t pegged Derrick, with his fashionable haircut, colorful bow tie, and flamboyant manner, as being interested in women.

“I asked him. You’ll get to see soon how nosy I am,” she admitted, picking at her fingernail. “And competitive. Supercompetitive.” I had never encountered somebody so self-aware, and so forthcoming.

“I’m competitive, too,” I said. “But mostly with myself, I guess.”

It wasn’t exactly a lie. I had been a competitive swimmer for my entire youth, and I’d held the girls’ World Junior Record in both the 50-and 400-meter freestyle for ten years. (A few years back, a Russian teenager snatched my title.) I’d been recruited by the swim coach to Harvard, but halfway through my sophomore season, a badly torn rotator cuff forced me to delete “athlete” from my “student athlete” title.

“As far as I’m concerned, you and I are on the same team,” Carmen said. “I’m so happy to have somebody from law school here!”

Swimming hadn’t really given me the opportunity to be part of a team—I never even swam the relay—and I welcomed the idea of belonging to one, even though part of me wondered if I even knew how.

“We’re on the same team for sure,” I agreed.

Carmen stretched her back, hands on her hips as she leaned to look up at the sky, then straightened and looked me in the eye. “I think I only became a lawyer because my father and three brothers are. I just want to show I’m just as good as them. Or better.” She grinned mischievously. “Like I said, competitive.”

“That’s a better reason than mine. I think I’m a lawyer because my parents just sort of suggested it.”

“Only child?” Carmen asked. I nodded. “Classic. They could have guided you to worse places, I guess. Anyway, I’m glad we’re in this together.” She spotted a lit-up cab coming toward us and held her hand up.

I envied the way Carmen could create fact by stating it aloud. Simply because she said it, we were friends—allies—when yesterday we were only former classmates. I smiled and gave her a wave as I hopped into the cab she had hailed for me.

When I arrived home, Sam was sprawled on the couch watching Anderson Cooper 360°. At least he’d changed out of his pajamas. I tried to imagine what he did in the house all day without me. He had met with potential investors for his start-up before we went to Asia, and as far as I knew, he was just waiting for their responses. He held his arms out to me, and I curled up into them.

“So?” he asked.

I frowned dramatically. “Well . . . I called the cops on myself today.” He opened his mouth to ask a question, but I held up a palm to stop him. “In front of everybody.”

“You need a drink.” He laughed as he gave me a peck on the lips and rose.

Sam returned from the kitchen with two glasses of red wine and put one into my outstretched hand. “To my working woman.” He clinked his glass against mine. “So, how were the other lawyers? Any friends? How was that Carmen girl you know from Harvard?”

“I met some really nice people. Everybody is so . . . sure of themselves. Carmen is pretty amazing. It’s a shame we weren’t closer in law school.”

“You had me to be close to in law school.”

“I know.” I kissed him gently, wiggling my way into the crevice between his side and his arm.

He was right, of course. But I’d also had friends from undergrad, many of whom had stayed in Boston after we graduated, minus two LA natives who’d moved back to the West Coast. Though I’d grown up in New York’s suburbs, I didn’t have any real network of friends in the city. I would have gladly stayed in Boston forever, but because Sam was going to have so many more options for his start-up here, we’d decided to make the move.